


The Aftermath

by BlackBerryPrince2



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-02-07 07:08:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18615646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackBerryPrince2/pseuds/BlackBerryPrince2
Summary: This is a crossover between the Harry Potter world and The walking dead one. Featuring and OC witch that meets up with Rick Grimes on his way into Atlanta, in season one. Pretty AU, as this sassy, take no shit witch is going to change everything.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This story is a crossover between Harry Potter and The Walking Dead. I have No rights to either of these magnificent franchises, and I don't make any profit from this work of fiction. This story will include some sexual situations, gory/ violent content, foul language and is rated M.

When I was a little girl, my grandfather told me of a war that was yet to happen. All the muggles would find out about magic on a global scale, which would result in a long and debilitating war with mass casualties and devastating consequences for both sides. He taught me to prepare; to live seamlessly in both muggle and magical worlds. He gave me the tools to survive and thrive in any environment; skills I practiced, honed and perfected well after his passing. He taught me how to cloak my magic so that even other magicals would think me muggle. He taught me how to connect seamlessly with my magic; to be able to call it forth with naught but a single thought and a twitch of a finger. He taught me how to use _the sight_ to my best advantage and he raised me to be a strong independent witch.

Nobody ever hid the fact that they thought my grandfather a senile old fool. They spoke the words to his face when he tried to warn them what was to come. That though the war was started by muggles, the downfall to all would be caused by wizards. But he and I, we knew the truth. He saw the future and it scared him. He knew he wouldn’t live to see the end of the war, but he wanted to give me the best chance. The wizards would soon become desperate to end the war they so arrogantly assumed they would win and would bring upon a plague that would affect both the living and the dead.

My grandpa gave me the greatest gifts anyone had ever given me: knowledge, determination and an iron strong will. My name is Indiana Torrez and this apocalypse ain’t got nothing on me.


	2. Chapter 1

It seems like all I’ve ever know is war. Which is pretty much true. I mean there isn't much that I remember from before the war. It started when I was 10; the muggles found out about magic on a global scale. Honestly? I couldn’t even tell you the catalyst for the big reveal- and if you asked any witch or wizard, you’d get a mixed variety of answers from dragons attacking muggle cities, to dementor mutinies or house elf rebellions.

I suppose in the end it doesn’t really matter. The wizards fucked up big time. Someone had the bright idea to curse muggles, with what I have no idea, and the global magical communities jumped on the: ‘Destroy all muggles once and for all’ bandwagon.

I guess they forgot one major thing: magicals are just like muggles. Everyone has inherent magic in them and the only thing that splits us apart is our ability to connect with and use our magic.

So yeah, major fuck up. Because this wonderful, muggle ending solution? Killed at the magicals too. Well, maybe not all of them. I survived after all. And I’m certain there are other communities, however small they may be, that have managed to remain strong as well. I mean not all the muggles died so, there must be _some_ type of hope for my people. Right?

Anyway, it’s been about 6 months since I’ve seen another living person. I’ve got a very loose plan mapped out: get to Ilvermorny in New York City, in one piece, and pray that someone, hopefully many someone’s, are there to let me in.

Truth is, I just can’t stay holed up in my parents’ house for much longer. It may be in the middle of suburban Georgia, but more and more biters are showing up and I’m running a low on supplies.

Now I know what you’re thinking: Indy, aren’t you a witch? Can’t you just magic yourself up some food and water and call it a day? And the answer is no- at least on the food front. ‘ _Aquamenti’_ is a dead useful charm after all; especially since the waters been cut for ages.

Actually though? Im the daughter of a half-blood and a muggle. My maternal grandfather taught me many things, but my father was a very strict and religious man. He hated the fact that I wasn’t “normal”, and severely restricted the time I got to spend with my magical grandfather. When I got my acceptance letter to Ilvermorny at age 11, he almost refused to let me go. It was my mother who got him on the out of sight, out of mind train for him to reluctantly agree.

 As the years passed and the war ramped up, my father became more strict and less tolerating of my magic. The fact that he died when I was 15, because of the muggle government bombing what they _thought_ was a magically populated area to me is the peak of irony. To say we didn’t see eye to eye is the understatement of the century.

Now it’s just me, and my trusty companion Rhodey. He's a German Shepherd, and he’s loyal as hell. Doesn’t hurt that he’s taller than me standing up, either.

My mother was caught up in the beginning of this mess and was one of the firsts to be turned. Which left me, as my grandpa had died 2 years ago, on the eve of my 18th birthday, and my father 3 years before that. So, for the past 6 months, all I’ve been doing is training.

My grandpa taught me everything _he_ knew, and _I_ knew it was because he didn’t have much time left. He was pushing 218 when he finally passed, secure in the knowledge that I could make it in this new world, where the dead roamed free.

But as I’ve said before, that was 6 months ago. I’m on my last few days of food and to be honest, I can’t stand the loneliness anymore. So Rhodey and I are setting out. I’m not stupid by any means (passed my NEWTs with all O’s, _thankyouverymuch_ ). I know I’m taking a big risk by leaving the house I grew up in, but what’s life in the apocalypse without a little risk?


	3. Chapter 2

Today’s the day. Rhodey and I are packing up and shipping out to who knows where.

I’ve pretty much packed up anything of value to me: my mother's’ favourite lapis lazuli necklace, her wedding rings, wand (it’s always good to have a spare or two), and my grandpa’s grimoire.

My grandpa, before he passed, had crafted me this nifty multi compartment “trunk” that disguises itself as a backpack. Which is amazing because it will definitely become my main means for survival. Basically, it has 12 different “rooms”.

The first one acts as a fridge/ freezer. The second holds my clothes, shoes and feminine products, and the third my weapons. The fourth and fifth are a fully functional kitchen and bedroom with a full bath. The sixth holds Rhodey’s stuff like dog food, blankets, leashes and a few quiet toys. The seventh holds the shrunken house furniture, pillows and blankets and such. The eighth holds potions ingredients and muggle medicine that I’ve been able to stockpile, as well as a functional potion making station.

The rest of the “rooms” are currently empty; for now, at least. Anything can be transfigured ya know?

I know that the probability of me coming back to this house is incredibly slim. There are too many memories, good and bad, and it’s time to move on.

After double checking that I have everything, I tuck my jeans into my favourite pair of hiking boots, throw my thick black locks into a ponytail and walk out the front door with Rhodey in tow.

oOoOoOoOoOo

The day starts off quietly. The hordes that show up at night always manage to thin out considerably in the mornings and today is no different. The eerie silence is punctuated only by the faint moans and groans of aimless biters.

A quick wandless _‘Silencio’_ allows Rhodey and I to walk undisturbed. The biters can’t hear us, but we must be careful because they can still smell us.

Suddenly I hear Rhodey give a quiet warning huff, and we immediately slow down and duck behind a car.

Up the road about half a block, is a man sitting on the front steps of a house with his head in his hands. Immediately I know that this guy is alive- biters don’t usually have a sit down while looking like their whole world is crumbling at their feet.

Before I can even decide to turn around or approach this man, a small African American boy, about aged 10, comes up and whacks the sitting guy over the head with a shovel and he goes down for the count.

“What the fuck?” Doesn’t this kid know biters don’t just chill on porch steps? And whacking one on the back of the head isn't gonna do shit except piss it off. Where’s this kids parents?

“Duane?!? Duane where are you boy?” I hear a man quietly yell.

A much taller African American man, looking in his late 30’s comes around the corner and takes in the scene before him. The father and son duo (I’m assuming) aren’t talking loud enough for me to hear anymore, but I watch as the boy’s dad grips the passed-out guy under the arms and begins to half carry, half drag him over and into a neighboring house.

“What do ya think Rhodey? Should we go join the party?” Rhodey huffs in answer and naturally I take that as a yes. “Alright bud, let’s go.”

When we get to the door, I notice that the windows are covered with dark fabrics, and I can’t see inside. So naturally, I do what any other in my situation would do. Knock out the super Mario theme song on the front door so they know I come in peace. I mean intruders looking to harm you don’t usually knock first right? Plus, who doesn’t like Super Mario?

About a minute after I’m done, I hear shuffling along inside the house and I catch one of the window curtains twitching. “Hey.” I call out softly. “I saw you drag that guy in there a few minutes ago. It’s been a while since I’ve seen people and I was wondering if I could come in? It’s me and my dog here, but I promise we aren’t here to try to hurt you guys. I’ve got a bit of food if you’re hungry and I’m willing to share.”

The shuffling that stopped when I started talking resumes after a few seconds. Then I hear “Alright, I’ll open the door, but I want you to know that I’ve got a gun. One wrong move and I won’t hesitate to shoot you or your dog.”

I grin and nod even though I know he can’t see me through the door. “Of course. I’ll even keep my hands where you can see them. I won’t make any sudden moves either, I swear.”

I hear the locks slowly turn and the door cracks open. The tall black man is indeed holding a gun, but my hands are up like I said they would be and Rhodey is sitting obediently at my feet.

To my absolute surprise, I can feel the magic radiating softly off this man and instinctually relax and let some of my own magic show too. Just enough for him to recognize my magical signature.

His eyes widen a bit in surprise. “Alright, come in, quickly now.” He cracks the door open just enough for Rhodey and I to squeeze in, then he closes it and rapidly re does the locks.

As soon as I take a seat at the kitchen table he leads me to, he begins a mini interrogation.

“You’re like us, right? I mean you’re a witch. Have you been formally trained at all? Are there anymore magicals around here that you know of? It's been a long time since we've met up with anyone like us. I was starting to think we might be the only ones left.”

I feel more then bear Rhodey huff against my leg and stifle a chuckle at this guy’s enthusiasm.

“Yes, I’m a witch and yes I’ve been trained. I graduated from Ilvermorny 2 years ago a little bit after my 18th birthday. And no, I don't know of any other magicals in the area.  My mother and I were the only ones, in this neighborhood at least, with magic. She died when this all began 6 months ago. I’ve been alone since.”

Another huff and a cold wet nose touching my hand has me correcting my last statement. “Well not completely alone.” I smile and give my good boy a scratch under his chin.

The man observes us for a moment longer before introductions are made.

“I’m Morgan. Over there's my boy Duane.” Morgan uses his chin to point out the young boy I saw earlier. The boy, Duane, looks terrified really, so I send him a small wave and smile, so he’ll feel a bit more comfortable. It works just a little. Duane untenses and sends me a small smile and wave back.

“I’m Indianna. But call me Indy please, and this is Rhodey.” His ears perk up at the mention of his name, but he doesn’t move his head from its resting place on my lap.

Next, I turn my attention to the still unconscious man. Up close I can see that he looks pretty young- in his late 20’s to early 30’s maybe. His face is clean shaven, but the skin around his eyes is purple-ish and his cheeks look sunken in like he hasn’t eaten in months.

Just as I go to ask the Morgan if he’s okay, the passed-out guy surges up with a gasp that is immediately followed up by a wince and a groan of pain. His hand flashes to his stomach and I can see small amounts of blood seeping through his shirt from a would.

Morgan immediately jumps to his feet and gets the guys attention by screaming at him. “Are you bit? You are ain't you! God dammit! Show me! SHOW ME!”

His total 180 behavior throws me off for a second, but then I catch sight of Duane cowering in fear of his father's anger, and signal to Rhodey to get him out of the room.

Only after I see Rhodey grip Duane’s shirt in his teeth and pull him gently into the living room, do I focus back on the screaming Morgan and seemingly very confused injured man on the floor.

“No! No! I’m not bit! Why would I be bit? I was shot, nobody bit me!” The guy pleads, but Morgan isn't having it. “Show me then! Show me the gunshot. Now! Hurry up!”

As the man begins fumbling with his shirt buttons, I begin to slowly release more of my magic, giving off calm and peaceful vibes to both men. I can tell the injured man hasn't been infected but is in a lot of pain and being worked up is only making it worse for him.

I see Morgan begin to visibly calm, and by this point, the man has his shirt open and the bandage from his wound uncovered.

I can see a bleeding puckered, raw and angry looking wound, but no bites.

Morgan’s sigh of relief lasts for about 2 seconds before he starts getting worked up again, this time about his son.

“Duane? Duane where are you boy?” But before he can start to go off again, I reach over and touch his arm.

Physical touch with calming magic always works faster and is stronger than just releasing it into the room.

“He’s fine. I sent him off into the other room with Rhodey. If this guy was infected and we had to deal with it, Rhodey would protect your boy while we did.”

The moment my hand touches Morgan’s shoulder, all the stress and anxiety and terror he'd been holding in over the passing months falls from him, and I watch as he stands still and just breathes.

After a minute, where everything was quiet, the injured man coughs to get our attention.

“So… what’s going on here? And do any of you guys have any aspirin? It feels like someone is shoving a hot fireplace poker through my side.”

Morgan is still gathering his composure, so I sling my backpack off my shoulders, stick my hand it, and with a silent summoning charm, I withdraw a small unopened bottle of ibuprofen.

I shake out 4 and hand the man a bottle of water to wash it down.

I do a quick spell to determine if this guy has any brain trauma. I mean, where has he been for the last 6 months? Living under a rock?

The test comes back negative for head trauma, but it did pick up severe malnourishment, dehydration and the beginning signs of infection from the gunshot wound.

Im very curious as to what’s happened to this man but before I could comment, Morgan beats me to it.

“Duane must have hit you harder than I thought.” To my surprise, Morgan pulls out a pen light and begins a full neuro exam on the guy while asking him questions like who the last president was, a few basic math equations, and his full name and address.

He’s able to answer the questions correctly, and we learn that his name is Richard Allen Grimes, but prefers to just be called Rick and he lived in the house next door, that he was sitting on the front steps of.

“So, what’s the last thing you remember? I mean how did you get shot and where have you been holed up these past months?” Morgan asks as he begins cleaning Rick’s wound and preparing to bandage it.

“Well on June 19th my partner and I got a call out to, um somewhere, I can’t remember where exactly. But I remember that the call was strange. Like what we'd been hearing reports of over the news in the major cities.

“A man was apparently trying to _eat_ his neighbors. He had apparently killed his wife and teenaged son and was relentlessly going after the neighbors boy when we had got there. The guy was covered in blood and there was just a glazed look in his eyes. Like the lights were on but nobody was home ya know?

“Anyway, he wouldn’t back down no matter what we did or said, so we all started to fire at him; myself, my partner and the boy’s father. But no matter how many bullets we put into him, he just kept coming. Finally, someone got him in the head, and he dropped down, but another bullet was already fired and because the man had hit the ground like a puppet with its strings cut, I took the bullet to my abdomen.

“The last thing I remember after that is my partners face over mine and he was yelling something at me, but I couldn't hear what. Then nothing. Until today.

“I woke up in a hospital and it was completely deserted. There was a stretcher blocked in front of my door to keep it wedged shut. When I finally made it out of the room, everything was dark and quiet. I walked around a bit to try and find anybody, but all I saw was a door chained shut with ‘don't open, dead inside’ painted in blood. After that I just left and ended up grabbing an abandoned bike and riding my way home.

“My house is practically empty, and our safe room was pretty much deserted. Food, medicine, blankets, clothes and our family photos are gone. Gives me hope my wife and son are safe wherever they are. I mean, who else would bother to take the pictures off the walls?” Rick chuckles weakly.

I sit there a bit stunned, trying to process everything Rick had just told us and well it seems this guy has got either amazingly good or tragically horrible luck.

“Anyway, what happened with the war? Did we win? Where is everyone? And why the hell did u ask if someone _bit_ me?


	4. Chapter 3

I lock eyes with Morgan, and we have a silent conversation on who will take the lead with explanations. Morgan, who’s finishing up with bandaging Rick, tilts his head towards the living room and I give him a nod as I stand.

“I’m going to go check on Duane and Rhodey. They’ve been quiet for a while, and it’s getting to be around supper time. I'm sure they’re both a bit hungry.” I say more for Rick’s benefit than anything else.

In the living room, I find Duane and Rhodey curled up together on the couch. Duane appears to be asleep and Rhodey looks relaxed but alert. His tail starts to thump when he sees me, but he makes no attempt to move from his position and disturb Duane.

“Hey boy,” I say as give him a scratch between his ears. “Any trouble brewing?” Rhodey huffs and licks my hand to let me know everything's calm, so I reach over to gently wake Duane.

“Hey buddy, you feeling hungry? Your daddy’s in the kitchen patching up that guy you whacked earlier, so a proper supper will have to wait but would you like a snack?”

Duane slow blinks at me and I can tell he’s fighting the sleep fog, but he manages to nod his head and sit up, as I lay out some snack options.

“Alright buddy, what would you like? I've got blueberry and cherry pop tarts, some Scooby Doo fruit snacks and a couple of Kool-Aid juice pouches. Take your pick.” His eyes widen at the sight of the snacks, but he eagerly snatches up a pack of cherry pop tarts and a juice pouch.

“Thank you, Miss Indy,” he says with a full mouth, and I send him a wink. “No problameo buddy.”

We sit in comfortable silence, enjoying our food when a thump at the door has Morgan rushing towards the front door and Duane cringing back into the sofa. Rhodey jumps off the couch with a silent snarl facing the windows.

“What’s going on? Whose there?” Rick asks, hobbling into the room. I’m immediately on guard thinking a live person maybe trying to break in.

Morgan looks through the peephole and slumps against the door. “Jenny” he sighs. “It’s Jenny. Sh- she was my wife. She got bit a few weeks ago. I couldn’t save her, and I was too selfish to end her suffering. So, she turned. She wanders around all day; but every night- _every Goddamn night_ she comes back here. Back to us, and I can’t help but think, maybe she’s still in there ya know?” his voice cracks and I can tell he’s holding back tears.

Duane sniffles and I move to the couch to pull him into a hug, but as soon as my body touches his, I’m thrown into a vision.

_Morgan and Duane are in the backyard; they’ve just finished with some target practice and are heading inside._

_“You’re doing great with target practice son. Soon you’ll be a better marksman then me. Up there with the finest snipers in the military.”_

_Duane lights up at the praise. “Really? Does that mean we can go and catch up with mister Rick and Miss Indy?”_

_Morgan chuckles at his son and rubs his head. “Of course, Duane. I wouldn’t’ve said it if I didn’t mean it; and yes. We’ll be on our way soon. Now run along inside. It’s getting dark soon and you how it is at night.”_

_Morgan begins cleaning up their training area, making sure the place looks just as abandoned as the rest of the houses on the block, to not draw attention._

_When he hears a scream, it’s like time slows down. He turns and sees his wife, Jenny, holding their son Duane, as if she were just giving him an affectionate hug, but instead of a kiss on the cheek, Jenny is biting into Duane’s neck while the boy struggles to get free._

_Morgan is moving before his mind can register the movement. He fires off two rounds into Jenny and she drops like a hot potato, taking Duane with her._

_In the next second, Morgan is holding Duane in his arms as his baby boy takes his last breaths. “I- Duane! Just hold on for me okay? It’s going to be okay, I promise, alright? You just have to hold on. Just hold on for me son!”_

_Morgan scoops Duane up into his arms and sprints in to the house. He gently places Duane’s body on the floor beside his medic pack and-_

I gasp loudly as I come out of the vision, and instinctually grip Duane tighter.

“What was that? What just happened to you? Your eyes glossed over, and you didn’t respond when I called your name. I tried to tap your shoulder, but the dog wouldn’t let me.”

I absentmindedly reach out to pat Rhodey while ignoring Rick and turn to make eye contact with Morgan. He’s looking at me like i'm a complicated puzzle, he’s been trying to crack for ages. His eyes widen when he connects the dots.

“Alan Torrez.” He says and I nod my head in confirmation. My grandfather was a gifted _seer_. Although he was known to be crazy as hell to most, there were some who took him seriously.

“He taught me everything he knew.”

Morgan nods and a serious look crosses his face. “What did you _see?_ ”

“It- it was momma. She was biting my neck and it- it hurt so bad daddy!” Duane answers for me and starts to sob into my stomach; my blood runs cold.

“I- Duane? Honey did you see the vision as well?” Duane nods his head.

“Y-yeah. But I could feel it too. Daddy was cleaning up from target practice and I was coming back into the house, but I saw momma and she was reaching for me. It felt like she was happy to see me; she opened her arms for a hug, but then she was biting me and I- I couldn’t get away! And it hurt so bad!”

I pull Duane closer to me and rub his back. “I’m so sorry buddy. I didn’t know that could happen. I can’t always control the visions, but I’ve _never_ pulled anyone into them with me either. I didn’t even know it was possible.”

Morgan open his mouth to speak but an outburst from Rick cuts him off. “Okay, Enough! What is going on here?! First Morgan tells me that the war is over but there was no winner? And the dead apparently don’t stay dead! And now you two are having secret conversations right in front of me and talking about visions! You’re all crazy aren’t ya!”

An awkward silence settles over us, punctuated only by Duane’s muffled sobbing and Rick’s panting.

I close my eyes, take a deep breath and slowly let my calming magic loose. Duane drops off to sleep and Rick finally catches his breath.

Then I guide my magic towards Rick to get a more in-depth read on him. My magic picks up on his surface confusion, pain, anger and frustration. I dig a little deeper and find his aura. It’s a light bluish green that tells me that Rick is a relatively good person. He always tries to do what he believes is right and would do anything for the ones he loves.

Decision made, I open my eyes and make eye contact with Rick. “I’m a witch.”

oOoOoOoOoOo

I think it takes a few moments for that to sink in for Rick because his only reaction is a slight tilt of his head and he squints his eyes at me a bit.

“You’re a witch,” he drawls out slowly, and I nod my head, while maintaining eye contact.

“You don’t look like a witch to me.” I can’t help but snort a bit at that.

“Have you ever met another magical person before? I mean what did you expect us to look like? Green skin, huge warts and cackling while making muggle soup in our cauldrons?”

Rick breaks eye contact and actually looks embarrassed. “Um, n-not the green skin, but yeah I guess the stereotypical Halloween type witch is always what I’ve pictured; black cats and flying on brooms and such.”

Morgan and I share another look and Rick huffs in annoyance. “What now?”

“Well you were kinda on the money is all. Brooms weren’t really used for travel because you could be seen, but we used them for a sport we called quidditch. And for school, we were allowed to bring a pet; an owl, cat or toad. Many of my muggleborn friends brought black cats with them as first years. They thought it was hilarious.”

Rick does his head tilt eye squint thing again, and im starting to realize that’s just his thinking face. “I can’t tell if your being serious or not.”

My lips quirk involuntarily, and I reassure him im very serious.

“Do you mind if I ask a few questions?” Rick asks after a moment of silence.

“Ask away,” Morgan chimes in.

“What are muggles? And you said something about having muggle born friends. Morgan had explained to me that ya’ll had your own governments, schools and communities and such, but I wanted your take on this whole thing. Oh, and um, wh-what was your name again miss?” Rick looks a little embarrassed still, but I realize that I never introduced myself to him.

“My name is Indiana Torrez, but please just call me Indy. That is Rhodey,” I point to my dog, who moved to stand alert and listen at the windows.

“Muggles are what us magical people call those who can’t access their magic, or those, for all intents and purposes, have none. You see, everyone and everything in the world has magic. The only difference between a muggle and a magical, is the ability to access and use that magic.  A muggle born is a magical child born to muggles. They can access their magic, while those in their families cannot. However, even though muggles may not be able to access their magic directly, it can manifest in other ways. Like being able to tell when others are lying or having above average vision or hearing. Or maybe if you’re really interested in something like art or sports, your magic can evolve to help bolster your talent in that area.

“I actually have a theory that it was your inherit magic that’s been keeping you alive all this time Rick. I mean power has been down for months and I know that hospitals have backup generators and such, but even those wouldn’t last for months straight. I'm pretty sure your magic was keeping you alive and most likely putting your body into a type of stasis until you were stable enough to wake.”

Rick is nodding along so I take a deep breath and continue, “My take on everything however is… probably a bit skewed. Morgan mentioned my grandfather, Alan Torrez. He was 218 when he died, and we were very close. He taught me everything I know, really. He was a powerful wizard and an even more powerful _seer._ It sounds crazy but he had visions of the past and future. Before I was born, he had a vision, and the reality we live in now is what he saw. Nobody took him seriously. The magical people were very arrogant in their supposed superiority and none of them, well the ones who had never stepped foot in the muggle world, believed that muggles could ever be a threat to them. Never mind that muggle to magical population was roughly 100,000 to 1. Magical communities were hilariously outnumbered, and they were willfully ignorant of that fact.

“So, my grandpa taught me everything he knew. He was a serious task master and he had me training from the time I could walk, but he did it because he knew the world I would eventually live in, and that he wouldn’t be there to protect me. So, I’ve known about all of this long before it would happen. Today is the first time that I’ve left my house, since before my mother died. Being alone in my childhood home was getting to be a bit much, so Rhodey and I ventured out to see who and what we could find. My hope is that there are magical communities out there that have survived and are rebuilding.”

I sigh as I gently wriggle out of Duane’s grasp without waking him. Three clicks of my tongue has Rhodey leaving his post by the window to curl back up with Duane. “It’s pretty late now, so I know you guys have to be hungry. How about we continue this in the kitchen while I whip us up a quick supper.”

Both men agree and I follow behind as Morgan assists Rick in hobbling back to the kitchen.

I'm not sure what kind or how much food Morgan has, but i'm sure it’s nothing Ricks stomach can handle since he hasn’t eaten in months. I know I have some instant oatmeal packets, and I think that will be bland enough to prevent refeeding syndrome.

After Morgan and Rick take their seats, I prop my backpack against the counter and turn to the guys with a smirk. “Wanna see a magic trick?”

Morgan gives me an amused look and Rick looks curious. He turns to Morgan, sees his expression and nods towards me.

I flick my wand into my hand from my wrist holster and tap it on my backpack. I don’t have to say a spell because its keyed to my magical signature.

I hear Rick’s gasp as my black hiking backpack turns into a large black trunk that comes up to my waist. I turn the dial on the front to number 1, flip the lid up and climb down the ladder into the pantry room. I grab a box of maple and brown sugar instant oatmeal and a half gallon of milk. Im lucky that my grandpa thought to build inter-room doors, so that I don’t have to get out of the trunk to access another room. I head to door 7 and grab a pot, a few bowls and spoons. A quick pop into room 8 for a mild healing potion for Rick and im heading back out of the trunk.

Morgan and Rick’s faces have me bursting out into laughter, and I almost drop everything as I climb out. “You two should see your faces! If your jaws dropped any lower, they’d dislocate!” My laughter dies down a bit as I set everything up to cook. I turn around when I hear sputtering coming from Rick.

“How- I mean, what? Y-you just disappeared into the trunk! Its not big enough to fit you! And is that _milk?_ I thought you said the powers been off for months?! How could you still have _milk?_ And- I mean, what?”

“Magic” I say, and I throw him a wink. I hear Rick muttering to Morgan, but I ignore them and focus on cooking. I open about 8 packets of oatmeal into the pot and add in the milk. Then I use a mild heating charm on the pot to cook the food for a few minutes. When its done, I let out a quiet whistle so Rhodey will wake Duane and send him into the kitchen.

The young boy stumbles cutely into the kitchen and I pull him into a hug. “Hey honey, you feeling better after your nap?” I feel him nod into my stomach so give him a quick tight squeeze then steer him into an empty seat. Im feeling a bit tired myself so instead of serving everyone, I drop into the last available seat and snap my fingers. The spoons dish the oatmeal into the bowls, then the bowl float over and place themselves in front of each of us. Another snap and two bowls, holding kibble and water for Rhodey appear in front of him as well.

“I know it isn't much, but I figured something on the blander side would be better for Rick’s stomach, and I have a ton of instant oatmeal packets. Oh, and Rick take this. It’s a very mind healing potion. It will work with the inherent magic within you to speed up your healing process. You should be right as rain in a few days.”

Surprisingly, Rick takes the potion and immediately downs it. I chuckle at his grimace. “That tasted awful. I would ask what was in it but i'm not sure I actually want to know. But thank you Indy, its very kind of you to help me out.”

“No, you do not my friend. And you’re welcome. We have to stick together after all. Were pretty outnumbered by the biters, and you’re good people.”

He chuckles and we all dig in. Rick is only able to eat about half his portion, and gives the rest to Duane, who looks for his dad’s approval before digging into his seconds.

By the time us adults have finished our meals, Morgan settles me with a heavy look. “Indy, about your vision… do you know when it takes place? I’m sure you understand, but I need to do everything I can to protect my boy. He’s all I've got left in this world.”  

“I understand completely Morgan, but you’re not alone any longer. You and your son are the first magicals I've met in over 6 months. There can’t be many of us left, and like I told Rick, we have to stick together. Were stronger together. My vision was set a few days from now. It was just you and Duane, because he mentions that you guys were going to catch up with Rick and I after you brushed up on your shooting skills. I don’t really have more details for you other than that it was going on dusk and your wife was hugging but biting Duane like he described. The only thing I don’t get is why we would split up in the first place.”

“Well,” Rick chimes in, “I've been thinking that I need to go find my family. Honestly, they’ve been on my mind since I woke this morning. I can feel that they’re still out there, waiting for me to come back to them, and everything in me is screaming to get moving to find them. It's why I came home before I did anything else.”

The pieces start coming together for me. “That must be why we split up. Rick just isn't strong enough to be traipsing around all of Georgia by himself, so I must have decided to go with him. And I suppose you and Duane stayed behind to get some shooting practice in before being thrown into serious life or death situations.

“But where did the guns come from? Unless you have more stashed around the house? All I've seen on you is that hand gun, and in the vision, you had some much heavier artillery.”

Morgan shakes is head in the negative. “No, your right. The handgun is all I've got and i'm running low on rounds. I couldn’t waste them on target practice.”

I look over to Rick and he has a ‘why didn’t I think of this sooner’ look on his face. “The police locker!” he says but I have no idea what that is.

“Um- what is a police locker?”

Rick grins and explains “Its where we keep all of the guns at the sheriff's department. It’s a huge, very secure room under the building, that has a lot of guns and weapons that we could use. Im betting we go there and stock up. This could actually be a solid plan! But this time, instead of splitting up, we all stay together, safe and alive. Listen, I’m extremely grateful to ya’ll for what you’ve done for me, but I have to go find my family. I think it would be beneficial for us all to stay together, and I would be very grateful if you chose to come with me.”

I look to Morgan because its ultimately his decision. Rick is a grown man, and i'm confident he can take care of himself, but Duane is just a child. Now that I’ve had that vision, I won’t be going anywhere without the father son duo by my side.

Morgan sighs but when he looks over at Duane, who’s still eating, I can tell his mind is made up. “We leave at first light.”

oOoOoOoOoOo

A few hours later im woken by Rhodey gently nudging his nose into my neck. As I sit up and stretch, I see Morgan with his back to the front door. Hes holding a gun but his shoulders are shaking and there are silent tears pouring down his face.

Sleep leaves me quickly and I scramble over to the crying man.

“Morgan, hey what’s going on?”

I hear a light thump on the door and then I get it. “Jenny” I whisper, and Morgan just nods, lost in his grief.

“I-I have to do it. Were leaving in the morning and I can’t just leave her here. S-she needs to rest. I should have done this a long time ago. I should have been stronger, but I just couldn’t. it must be done tonight but I still don’t know if I can…” he trails off, sobbing silently.

I gently pry the gun out of Morgan’s hands and wrap my arms around him. “You don’t have to do it on your own anymore. Its okay to lean on someone- you don’t always have to be the strong one. I’ve been here before with my mother and I would have begged anyone to share that burden with me. I had to face that on my own, but you don’t. Let me lessen this burden for you.”

He looks at me with tears in his eyes and I can _feel_ the hesitation rolling off him. I send him a gentle smile and a burst of calm determination. “Let me help you.”

It takes him a few minutes to gather his composure, but he finally nods his agreement.

“okay, this is the plan: Rhodey is going to go out the back door and scout around to the front, when he comes back, we’ll follow him out. You are going to cause a small distraction to get Jenny away from the door, and I’ll come up behind her, alright? Nothing crazy, okay? And in the morning, before we go, we’ll give her the burial she deserves. Now, here, take this. It’s much quieter than a gun; it won’t draw attention ”

I hand him a large hunting knife as he manages to croak out a quite “Okay,” and we head for the back door.

A whistle and two clicks of my tongue has Rhodey by the back door, ready for his mission. We move as quietly as possible to not wake Rick and Duane, but also to not draw other biters attention.

It takes Rhodey a minute to scout the front yard and return to the back door. Two brushes of his nose against my hand lets me know there’s about a dozen biters outside milling about, and a soft nip to my finger tells me that only Jenny is on the property. I relay the information to Morgan, and we go ahead with my plan. He slips out seconds before me but when we get to the front yard, Morgan freezes on site of his wife.

“Jenny,” he whispers, but she hears him and turns to move in our direction. I can see Morgan’s grip on the hunting knife tighten, but his hands are shaking.

Jenny is very focused on the frozen man, so its very easy for me to sneak around and gently slide the knife into the base of her skull as she reaches for her husband. Morgan unfreezes and rushes forward to catch his truly dead wife. I keep watch and keep the biters at bay while he takes a few moments to grieve.

By the time he’s calmed down and is ready to move her body to the backyard, I’ve had to dispose of three biters that were drawn to the noises we made. Together we carry her body around to the back of the house and I transfigure a leaf into a large white sheet to cover the body. We quickly head inside after that.

Before I can head to the bathroom to clean up a bit, Morgan pulls me into a bone crushing hug. _“Thank you, Indy.”_  He breathes out shakily and I give him a tight squeeze in return. I pull back and make eye contact, so he knows im serious. “Like I said earlier, you’re not alone anymore. You’re stuck with me now, and if you ever need anything, you just have to ask. I got your back. Now get some sleep; we have an extremely busy day ahead of us.”


	5. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Insert standard disclaimer here  
> Also, I still don't have a beta, so all spelling and grammar probs are mine  
> Enjoy!!!

 Chapter 4

In the morning I wake up on my back feeling very overheated and a thin pair of arms wrapped around me. Peaking open my eyes; I confirm its Duane snuggled up to me and smile. It’s only been a day but I’m becoming very attached to this adorable little boy.

A glance around the living room reveals Rhodey standing guard at the window. I don’t see Rick or Morgan, but I do hear faint murmuring coming from the kitchen. I check my watch and see that it’s still pretty early, so I take a few moments to snuggle Duane before gently wiggling out of his surprisingly strong grip.

I give Rhodey a pat on the head as I move into the kitchen. Morgan and Rick are looking over a map of the area and I see that they have several routes mapped out.

They both turn to me as I enter. “Good morning!” We all chime in unison, and I grin at our synchronicity. “Are you two hungry? I see you have somethings mapped out, but we should eat if we’re going to be moving out soon. While I cook, you two can fill me in on the plan.”

I move over to my pack and summon another box of oatmeal and the rest of the milk from the night before, while Morgan starts talking.

“Rick showed me that the sheriff’s department is about three miles from here. Walking could get us there in about an hour, maybe more depending on Biter activity. From there I was thinking we could head to the hospital Rick woke up in and raid it for supplies; medicine, bandages and the like. There's also a few small corner shops, gas stations and a supermarket I was thinking we could get to before nightfall, or possibly tomorrow depending on how long the hospital takes us.” 

I nod my head and look to Rick who seems satisfied. I serve some food to the two men then throw my arm over Morgan’s shoulder in a half hug.

“Alright then, after breakfast, we’ll have a small ceremony for Jenny and then move out.” He tenses under my arm but reaches to pat my hand in thanks. When he’s finished eating, he wipes his mouth and stands.

“I’m going to wake Duane so he can get some food. Boy loves his sleep, but we need to get going soon.”

I turn my attention to Rick as Morgan exits the room. He looks a hell of a lot better today than he did yesterday. The potion, a full belly and a good night’s rest have done wonders for him, and I let him know.

“Rick, you look much better today. How are you feeling?”

He sends me a grateful smile. “I feel great. The pain in my side is more of just a small twinge if I move wrong, but other than that, I’m good. Thank you again for that Indy.”  

I smile and wave away his thanks. “It was my pleasure Rick. Anyways you need to be in top form if we’re going to find your family.” 

Duane comes in and sits in the chair next to mine. I hook my foot under his chair and drag it closer to me so I can wrap my arm around him. Duane sleepily burrows into my side.

“G’morning Miss Indy, Mister Rick.” His voice is little more than a whisper, but in the quiet of the morning, we’re able to hear him just fine.

Rick tips his head in greeting, while I press a kiss to the boy’s brow. “Good morning sweetheart. Would you like some breakfast?” He nods into my shoulder and I wave my hand towards the stove top. A repeat of last night has the food dishing itself out and being served to the boy without me having to get up.

I catch the look on Rick’s face and quirk my eyebrow at him in question. “I have only really seen magic done in person, only just last night and I’m pretty sure I’ll never get used to it. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve never been one of those prejudiced idiots, but I knew plenty of ‘em. None of the hate they’ve ever spewed came close to what I keep witnessing you do, but its still an adjustment for me.”

I nod because that’s reasonable. “Its alright. I know how much this all can be for people who’ve never experienced it before, especially with how everything was before all this.” I motion to the covered window to emphasize my point. “Not everyone will be as accepting as you. Even after the worlds gone to hell, people like to do what they know, cling to old prejudices and hate, even when that’s the last thing we need in this new world. You take all the time you need to adjust- I won’t be offended.” I end with a wink and it surprises a chuckle out of Rick and lightens the mood a little.

As soon as Duane is finished eating, we pack everything up and get ready to head out.

We all head into the back yard and I motion for Rhodey to walk the perimeter, keeping watch as we have a small service for Jenny.

Morgan pulls out a dark brown wand with rounded edges and a raised hand grip that has a braided design to it. It looks to be about 9in long, and very rigid. He makes a few motions with the wand, and I can see his lips moving as he silently mouths the words of a spell. The ground before us splits into a 3ft wide, 6 ft long and 6 ft deep grave. While Morgan is holding up the chunk of earth, I use my wand to levitate Jenny’s body into the ground, then Morgan lowers the dirt back onto the body.

Morgan then transfigures a rock into a small gravestone plaque that reads:

_Here lies Jenny Jones. The best mother, the kindest wife, and the greatest woman to ever Bless the Jones’ name. May her soul rest in peace and love, and she know that she will never be forgotten._

oOoOoOoOoOo

It takes us about an hour and a half to make it to the Sheriff’s station. Since it was very early, the walkers hadn’t really had a chance to thin out too much, but we were able to make it there with no major issues.

Rick leads us inside and its very eerie. The place is completely deserted but looks as if everyone has just gone home for the evening. Only the layer of dust gives away how long its actually been since anyone was here.

We each take point with Duane and Rhodey in the middle to clear the entire building, and once that’s done, Rick leads us to the gun locker in the basement. We leave the large rifles and each grab two handguns, which Morgan and I promptly supply with silencing charms.

Morgan finds the smallest gun possible for Duane. It’s a revolver that only holds five bullets but, with virtually no kick back, will be easy for the boy to handle. After attaching a holster to Duane's belt, we head off, with Rick in the lead, to the holding cells.

“We can leave majority of our stuff here while we move onto clearing the hospital and those shops. We can keep the keys with us so that even _if_ anyone else came in after us, our stuff would be protected.” Rick proposes, and Morgan nods his head in agreement.

Duane, Rhodey and Rick head inside the large cells, but I grab Morgan to stop him from following.

“So, I just wanted to run something by you before we head out. This place is pretty secure, and I can set up a few quick wards to keep people out, and with Rick’s idea of locking up our stuff, I was wondering if you’d like Duane to stay here as well?”

He looks at me like I'm an idiot and opens his mouth to no doubt tell me so, but I finish my thought before he can get the chance.

“Wait! Here me out! My backpack turns into a trunk as you know but it also has a few nifty features; like for one, it can’t be moved if someone is inside, two, its impossible to open unless you’re keyed into the wards and three I can _apparate_ directly into it.

“There's a ward to let me know if anyone not keyed in tries to open it, and if anyone tries to steal it, they’ll be in for a nasty shock- literally. It would be much safer for Duane to stay here inside the trunk where its safe, and we don’t have to worry about him while were out there. You know as well as anyone how situations can go from good to fucked in 2.5 seconds.

“Duane, along with Rhodey will be very safe here. There's a bedroom and he could have a lie down and I’ve got some books and toys that should keep him entertained until we come . It’s just a suggestion but I’m leaving Rhodey here regardless.”

Morgan’s lips press into a firm line and he stares into my eyes intently. “Key me into the wards. I trust you Indy, I really do but Duane is my number 1 priority. I won’t put him in any unnecessary danger and this trip will be just that. So key me in so I have a better idea if what wards are going to be protecting my boy and _together_ , we can set up some extra ones. I may not have my mastery, but I’m damn good at warding.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal partner.” I drawl and tip my imaginary hat to him, and his lips quirk into the tiniest of smiles.

Once inside the cell, I pull off my backpack and transform it back into the trunk. I direct Morgan to place his hand on the lid with his palm on the Torrez family crest. It’s a crystal ball on a table with an ornate dagger, a set of cards and two wands crossed above it. Below that reads _Visus Claritatem Habet et Summam Fortitudinem pe_ r _:_ Clarity and Strength through Sight.

Morgan doesn’t even wince as the trunk pricks his palm and takes three drops of blood. I place my hand on top of his and chant the activation code: _licentiam concedere potest Morgan Jones._

A small red flash of light confirms the spell worked and Morgan is now keyed into the wards. I head over to Rick while Morgan explains the new plan to Duane.

“You ready to head out soon?” he asks me as I take a seat next to him. “Yeah I’m good. Morgan is letting Duane know that he’s gonna be staying here with Rhodey and once he has Duane settled, we’ll be on our way.”

Ricks eyebrows reach his hair line in surprise. “Y’all sure about that? This place is secure, but anything could happen while we’re not here…?”

I quickly reassure him about my trunk. “He’ll be fine. Morgan  I’ll be immediately alerted if anything happens to Duane or the trunk and we’ll be able to _apparate_ back here in less than a second.” At his confused look I explain that _apparition_ is basically teleportation.

“So, if Y’all can teleport, how come we’ve been walking on foot. Teleporting would be much easier, right?”

I shake my head and explain the best way I can. “No actually, _apparition_ has its limits; all magic does really.  You have to have been to a place before you can _apparate_ there. You have to picture it clearly in your mind or else you could end up _splinching_ yourself. That’s where you leave a bit of yourself behind. There were dozens of cases each year of folks who died from _splinching_. This one guy got drunk and left his whole leg behind at the pub he was leaving. His wife found him in the morning dead in a puddle of his own blood.

“There's limits on how many people you can bring with you- the more people the more power you use and the more likely you are to leave a chunk of you or them  behind. And its physically and magically draining. After a few jumps your magical core can become depleted and too many jumps in a row can cause the body to go into shock. _Apparition_ feels like your body is being compressed through a garden hose. Most people vomit or black out after their first few tries. Its why you have to wait until your magical majority to get a license. Its pretty impossible to do successfully before then.”

Rick looks absolutely horrified and I can’t help but laugh a bit at his expression. “Remind me to never ask you to teleport me anywhere, okay?”

“Sir yes sir!” I salute, feeling a bit cheeky.

Just then Morgan exits the trunk and locks it back down.

“Duane and Rhodey are all settled, so grab your packs and let’s get moving. The sooner we head out, the sooner I can get back to my boy.” Morgan gruffs out so we jump into gear.  

Morgan and I cast ever expansion charms on all our packs to hold all the supplies we’ll hopefully be bringing back, and after double checking our guns and ammo, we head out.

As we exit, I find two flat rocks and hand one to Morgan so we can draw some trip wards to let us know if anything, living or otherwise enters the building. We set them on either side of the door and head to the back lot of the station where the vehicles are kept.

As I look around, I notice that most of the vehicles are standard police cars, but there are a few SUV's and one massive SWAT SUV.

“None of these are are very discreet, and I’m not sure it’s the best idea to drive around in a car with police in great big letters on the side. It might draw unwanted attention y’know?”

Rick was rummaging through the cupboard with all they keys to the cars, but Morgan turned towards me.

“Do you know the color changing charm?”

“Yeah, _Colovaria,_ right? No wand movement either I don’t think.”

“No, but let’s throw a notice-me-not in with it as well.”

Rick grabs our attention and we head over to the row of SUV's. I change one of the cars to solid black as Morgan chants the notice-me-not charm: _ne animadverto._

“Hey Rick, are there any spare 5-gallon jugs? We might be able to get some gas to keep the tanks filled.”

Rick pulls out three 5 gallon jugs and tosses one to me and another to Morgan. Two of them are red and one is blue. The blue one is marked Diesel, and at my confused look, Rick explains that the monster SWAT car takes diesel and if we find any, we can load up and take that into Atlanta, instead of a regular SUV.

Morgan hops in the drivers seat, with Rick in the passenger and myself in the back. Rick scans through a CD book and when he pops one in the player, Sam Cooke’s _Bring It on Home to Me_ starts playing softly in the background, and I can’t help but sing along.

_“If you ever change your mind_

_About leaving, leaving me behind_

_Oh, oh, bring it to me_

_Bring your sweet loving_

_Bring it on home to me…”_

oOoOoOoOoOo

By the time we get to the hospital, the Georgia sun is high in the sky and in full effect. I take a few minutes, while Morgan parks, to braid my hair in two plats down either side of my head. Then I tuck my jeans into my boots, double check my gun and knife holsters and tie a bandana around my mouth.

Rick and Morgan do the same thing, once they’re out of the car, and together we make our way into the building.

By the time we make it to the front door, were all dripping with sweat, so I cast a cooling charm on the three of us, so we can make it through the day without dying. Its been months since the Hospital was fully functional and I'm 100% sure its going to be revoltingly hot and smelly inside.

_(Just for the record, I was right.)_

As soon as we pry the doors open, we simultaneously gag at the smell that punches us in the face; but we keep it moving.

“Okay, so how are we doing this? Level by level? I know we could get this done quicker if we split up, but I am vehemently against that idea.”

“Yeah, no. Were not splitting up.” Morgan reassures me. “Were going to raid the ER, OR, cafeteria, waiting rooms and pediatric unit. We’re looking for non-perishable foods, bandages, antiseptics, sutures, antibiotics, pain meds, inhalers, epi-pens and anything else you see that could be helpful. Our bags should be enough to hold everything, but if its not, we can always enchant another few bags. Let’s be quick and methodical about this alright?”

oOoOoOoOoOo

We do exactly as Morgan says and methodically clear the hospital. We start at the top of the building in the OR and work our way down.

_Waiting room. Supply room. ER. Waiting room. Recovery room. Lounge._

By the time we get to the cafeteria, I call for a break. Mostly for Rick though. That potion may have healed him up a bit, but the exertion and heat from the day was making him look a bit green around the gills. We each pop a squat in some comfy looking chairs and chug down some water.

After scarfing down some vending machine food, I get up and take a little look around.

“There ain’t much unspoiled stuff here but I see a crap ton of jello and pudding cups and a few large cans of fruit. If the deep freezer door has been kept shut, it should still be pretty cold in there, even though the power has been out for a while. Some of that might still be good.”

Morgan hauls himself out of his chair with a small grunt. “Let’s check it out. You stay here, catch your breath.” He says to Rick who was making moves to haul himself up as well. “You can play look out for a bit.”

We get to the deep freezer and I brace myself for all sorts of rotting food smells to punch me in the face. Morgan counts to three, undoes the latch and swings the door open and I head inside, gun drawn just in case.

The freezer is empty of biters but is still surprisingly very cold. Nothing looks thawed out, so I guess the seal and latch on the door was enough to keep the cold in.

Morgan props the door open with a chair and steps in, looking around as a low whistle escapes his lips.

“You know we just hit a literal jackpot, right? Everything in here is still frozen and usable. I've seen the fridge and freezer room in your trunk. Most of this could fit in there. I see sandwich meat, hot dogs, hamburger patties, and cheese. Plus, all the box pasta, cans of sauce, condiment packets and spices on the shelves outside… were gonna be set for a while. I mean look at this, this is _butter_. I didn’t think I was going to eat butter ever again.”

I snort out a laugh, but lord knows I’m just as grateful. “Yeah were some lucky sons of bitches ain’t we?”

We smile at each other and I hold my fist up for Morgan to reluctantly bump and we get to work. I pop out to get Rick’s bag so we can distribute the food easily between us.

Just as we finish packing up all the food, Rick appears in the freezer doorway looking spooked.

“I heard a baby’s cry.”

oOoOoOoOoOo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey so it’s been an incredibly long time since I’ve updated this, but I lost my muse for a while there. Thankfully she’s back!! But I’m not gonna lie, this chapter did a full U-turn from what I had planned out. Sorry to leave on a bit of a cliffhanger, but *shrug* that’s just how it ended up being. I definitely don’t plan on the next chap taking so long either! (But honestly no promises from this unreliable author). Drop a review and tell me what you liked and didn’t like. And please bear with me. I don’t think this fic is gonna be like anything you’ve ever read, hopefully in a good way!!! 😊


	6. Chapter 6

Aftermath Ch.5

Standard disclaimer, and on with the story.

Also please check out the A/N at the end of the chap. Has some important info. Lemme know what you think!!!

oOoOoOoOoOo

We move quickly but concisely. We have to get to the child, who’s cries are only getting louder, as quickly as possible, but we also have to be on high alert for the biters that will no doubt be drawn to the noise as well.

Finally, we’re able to pinpoint the room the child is in. The three of us enter, but Morgan stays by the door to lookout for increasing biter activity.

I cast a _mufflatio_ so the cries will cease to be heard from outside the room.

Approaching the child, I notice that they can’t be more than a two-year-old. They’re sitting on an exam table, in an overly full, soiled diaper and there is food trash littered on the floor. The child is naked, except for the diaper and there's a note attached to their chest.

Gently, I peel the note and diaper off the child, a girl, and hand the note to Rick while I scoop her up in a blanket Morgan conjures for me.

As soon as we make skin to skin contact, I feel a warm jolt in my magical core. The baby girl relaxes from her stiff posture but screws up her face and lets out another screeching wail.

“Hey there sweetheart, no need to cry any longer. Were here to help you okay? It’s all gonna be okay from now on. It’s alright baby, we’ve got you now.”

It takes a while, but my soft coos and gentle rocks are eventually able to calm her down, and she falls into a light doze against my shoulder. Her little hand fisted in my shirt and her occasional snuffle has my heart melting.

Morgan and Rick are standing at the doorway, both on the lookout, but having a whispered conversation to not disturb me and the baby.

I clear my throat to catch their attention and both men turn to me looking grim. Before I can even ask, Rick hands me the note that was attached to the little girls chest.

_She was a burden before the world went to shit and that burden has quadrupled since. I'm better off without her and she without me. I never asked for this, or her,  and so many times shes almost cost me my life. I just can’t do it anymore._

_I was going to smash a few vending machines and just leave her locked in this room with the food, but then I saw you guys cleaning the place out and knew I had a chance to get away with a clean conscience. For better or worse, she’s your problem now._

_P.S. Her name is Rosie, and she’s about 15 months. Don’t give her any formula- she’s allergic._

_Good luck._

It feels like time slows down for a few moments. I can feel my magic bubbling up inside me, ready to burst from the rage that’s suddenly consuming me. And for one second, I let it.  

But then the baby in my arms, _Rosie_ , shifts and burrows her face deeper into my neck.

I close my eyes and count the breaths I feel against my neck to help me calm down and reel back in my saturatingly angry aura. Now is not the time to lose my cool. I've got to stay focused to stay alive especially since we have so much to lose if I don’t have my head in the game.

Opening my eyes , I make contact with the men. Immediately I see we’re all on the same wavelength. Rosie is coming with us.

oOoOoOoOoOo

I strip off my bag and grab a clean towel from it and fold it into a makeshift diaper for Rosie. After I secure it with sticking charms, I use the blanket I had her wrapped in to create a makeshift sling for her to rest in, so she’s snuggled securely against my chest.

“So, what’s the new plan?” I ask.  “I think we’ve got enough to last us for a good long while. Pretty much everything we could need, especially food wise. But clearing the rest of the hospital isn't really an option any longer. We need to get some supplies for Rosie and head back to the department before it gets dark. We’ve been in here a few hours already.”

“Yeah I agree. Let’s head on out. We’ve already been here longer than I anticipated. I’d like to get back to Duane soon.”

Morgan moves back to the door and looks out of its small window. Once he gives the all clear, we head out in a line formation. Morgan in front, then myself and Rosie, with Rick bringing up the rear.

We’re able to swiftly make it out of the hospital with Morgan and Rick dispatching any stray biters we come across.

Stepping outside of the hospital is a major relief. It may be hotter outside than inside, but the fresh air is more than welcome.

The shops that would have any baby supplies are further down the block, so we head to the car to drive closer, in case we need to make a quick getaway.

Once were situated in the car; Rick turns to me. “How is she doing?”

I look down and gently brush the dark curly hair from her sleeping face. “She’s sound asleep now, but she must be exhausted. I want to get back to our little home base asap. What she really needs is food and water and a break from the heat. Lord only knows how long she’s been out here, the poor thing.”

We lapse into a comfortable silence until Morgan pulls into the middle of the lot, so that if anything goes south, we have equal access to every exit. It’s completely empty but that could change at any moment. Morgan shuts the car off and both him and rick turn to me.

“Indy, do you want to stay in the car with Rosie? The note said shes about 15 months and we both, Rick and I, have experience with our children and shopping for them. It would be no trouble for us to slip in and out and grab everything we need. You two can wait in the car, no problem.”

The idea has merit, but I immediately disagree. “If anything happens, and we get separated, we have no way to keep in contact. We stick together at all times, and a silencing charm around Rosie will keep any noise she makes from being heard.” 

They both look like they’d rather lock me in the car and go without me anyway, but we head out again in the same formation as when we left the hospital.

There's a few shops in the plaza, but the one we head to is the thrift store. It looks the least looted and the windows are all intact, unlike all the other smashed windows of the shops in the plaza.

When we get to the front doors of the shop, Morgan bangs on them a few times. “Little trick I came up with. Bang on the door then open it. Any biters inside walk right out and you can take ‘em out one at a time.”

We step back and wait a few moments, but we hear no movement and head inside. It’s not too dark inside and the place looks untouched.

“I’ll grab clothes for myself and Rosie. You two look around for some spare things for yourselves and Duane. Get durable things; jeans and the like. Long sleeve shirts too. It may be hot now, but winter is just around the corner and we’ll need the layers then.”

We stay within eye shot of each other and load up on clothes. I grab things from 24 months to three years for Rosie, and a few new pairs of jeans for myself. There's also a few used toys, board games and books that I pick up as well. Traveling can get quite boring and with two kids now, it’d be nice for them to have something to entertain themselves.

Fortunately for me I find an unopened pack of two sippy cups. There's also a stack of very cute, printed cloth nappies in a nice range of sizes and I grab them all.

I'm looking through the children’s shoes for suitable boots for Rosie, when I hear it. Its faint but getting louder by the second.

_“Is anyone out there? We’re offering sanctuary for any survivors! We have a small but thriving, community, filled with men, women and children! There’s food and supplies and shelter! If anyone is out there, we have sanctuary!”_

Rick perks up when he hears the voice on a loudspeaker. He rushes towards the door, to possibly flag down the owner of the voice, but Morgan practically tackles him to the ground before he can get close to the door.

“Stop! Stop! We don’t know what that is. Everything is gone, there's no one in charge anymore, no governments. This could be a trap. You gotta use your head now man. The worlds changed. People don’t do things out of the kindness of their hearts anymore.”

Together we stay low and creep towards the windows. The broadcasted message is getting louder and louder along with the sound of large heavy vehicles.

Soon enough, an armored truck, filled with men in civilian clothes, holding heavy machinery come into view, followed by a _tank._

There's a man standing in the back of the truck with a megaphone. Just looking at him makes my skin crawl and my hair stand on edge.

There's nothing obviously nefarious about him. He looks like a librarian honestly. But there's something in the way he holds himself that screams danger.

He _can’t_ find us.

We left the car in the middle of an empty lot in case we needed a quick getaway, but that may have just backfired on us. There’s no way we’ll be able to drive the car away with them so close to our location, and all of our supplies from the hospital are in there.

_Notice-Me-Not’s_ can only do so much.

Luckily for us, they keep driving past, but we spend an hour in the shop just to be sure that they’ve gone.

“That man is not a good man. Everything about him set me on edge, and all I did was hear his voice. Where the fuck did they get that tank from? And who just drives around in a tank? ‘Cause that just screams benevolence!”

“I’m not sure, but I got the same feeling; a cold shiver down my spine. We need to get back. Now. I won’t feel better until I’ve got Duane in my sights. I haven’t been apart from him this long since this mess all started.”

Quickly we make our way to the van and head back. Biter activity has ramped up because of the loud trucks and the creepy megaphone man, but we don’t have too much trouble.

About halfway into our journey back, we come across something extremely disturbing. There's a dead man lying on the side of the road, propped up against a car.

There's large bullet holes in him and the car behind him, and the blood is fresh- still dripping down the side of the car.

Obviously, this just happened and the only people around with this kind of fire power, would be the megaphone tank man and his crew.

“Keep going Morgan, don’t even slow down. This could either be a trap, and they come out to kill us if we stop, or they just murdered that man. Either way, you two were right. That group’s bad news.”

oOoOoOoOoOo

We make it back with no further incidents, but Morgan takes a few detours to ensure we weren’t followed.

After Morgan parks the car, Rick does a perimeter sweep while Morgan, Rosie and I head inside with the bags.

None of our wards were tripped which sets Morgan a bit at ease, but he still practically runs to the cells.

By the time I reach the doorway, I barely catch the top of his head disappearing into the trunk. He’s _such_ a mother hen.

Movement from Rosie catches my attention and I look down to see big beautiful green eyes staring up at me. With her wild black hair, she looks just like me as a babe.

I’ve only ever seen those green eyes on two people before; my mother and myself.

She stretches out in the sling and lets out a cute little groan.

“Hello my darling. Did you have a nice nap? Hmm? Are you ready for a bath? ‘Cause I'm not gonna lie, you’re a bit stinky.” I can’t help but coo at her cuteness.

We descent into the trunk and head to the bathroom. On the way, I see Morgan and Duane in the bedroom. Duane is asleep with Rhodey lying in the bed next to him, and Morgan has pulled up a chair to enjoy his son’s peaceful rest.

Rhodey perks up when he sees me and hops off the bed to follow me and my mini carbon copy.

Rosie is fully awake now and trying to escape the sling, so I carefully lift her out, and place her on the sink counter. She grabs onto my shirt for leverage and hauls herself standing.

“Oh my, look at you! You’re a strong one aren’t you! Yes, you are! Now let’s get you all cleaned up alright?”

I don’t have a baby bathtub, so I fill the sink with warm water and grab a bottle of body wash.

As soon as Rosie’s body is submerged in the water, she screws up her face, and I can tell she is not a fan of baths. However, before I have a full-scale meltdown on my hands, Rhodey pops up onto his hind legs and starts to sniff Rosie.

Apparently, a furry thing is much more interesting than crying over a bath.

She becomes immediately enraptured with Rhodey and he keeps her entertained enough for me to scrub her little body clean.

Miraculously there's no rash on her bottom from the soiled diaper we found her in, so when shes squeaky clean, I lift her out of the sink and put her on the floor so she can play with Rhodey while I squeeze in a quick shower.

Rick and Morgan are sorting the bags and putting food away in the freezer room when I exit the bathroom, looking for clothes for Rosie and myself.

“When I’m finished with Rosie, I'm gonna put something quick on- probably oatmeal again. I’m starved and it’ll be something Rosie can have as well. Is that alright?”

Both men give their okay, so I take a minute to grab a fresh nappy, a plain white  onesie for Rosie, and I fill one of the new sippy cups with water. I grab a black tank top and some sleep shorts for myself.

Back in the bathroom, Rosie is toddling around while holding onto Rhodey’s collar. When she sees me, she does something I do not expect.

She stretches out her tiny little hand, and the sippy cup with water goes flying into her grasp. She tilts her entire head back and greedily gulps the water down, and I can do nothing but gape.

Rosie is too busy quenching her thirst to notice when I move, so she startles badly when I suddenly scoop her up.

“You have magic! Rosie Posey, you have magic! Did you know? Hmm? Were you just holding out on me sweet girl? Oh, don’t cry my darling, you’re okay. Shh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you baby, but you surprised me! You have magic!”

She calms down quickly, so I dress her and head into the kitchen. The guys were still putting things away when I passed by the freezer room, so I put Rosie back on the floor with a soft block to entertain herself with while I cook.

I turn on some soft music from my dad’s old radio and sway to it while Rosie entertains herself by throwing the block for Rhodey to fetch. The sound of her giggles makes my heart melt, and the smile on her face is tooth-rottingly sweet.

The oatmeal doesn’t take long to finish, and soon everyone is filing into the kitchen from the scent.

In a repeat of the first night, Duane stumbles cutely into the kitchen and wraps me into a hug.

“Miss Indy, why is there a baby on the floor?”

“We rescued her today. Her real mama left her there when she saw us. She wasn’t fit to care for her baby any longer, so she gave her to us.”

“Well, she looks a lot like you. Are you gonna be like her mama now?”

“I don’t know sweetie. But I'm going to take care of her. And guess what? She has magic just like us!”

Duane and I turn towards the freezer room, when we hear twin “She does?” echo in the kitchen.

“Yeah she does. Summoned the sippy cup right out of my hand in the bathroom.”

“Well,” Morgan says, walking up to Rosie and picking her up. “Aren’t you just full of surprises.”

Rosie gives a wide smile, showing off her eight front teeth, and babbles happily at Morgan.

He passes her to me and moves to dish out the food but before I sit down I set out food and fresh water for Rhodey.

Since we don’t have a highchair, I sit Rosie down on my lap and grab a spoon. Luckily her hunger wins out, and she doesn’t fight me about eating. She just opens her mouth like a baby bird and makes happy little hums at each bite.

We finish our food at the same time, when Rosie starts to cry. I try feeding her more food and when that doesn’t help, some water, but nothing gets her to calm down.

I cuddle her into my chest and bounce her a bit, and she starts to chew on my shirt over my breast. I rub my hands up and down her back to try to comfort her.

“Oh Rosie girl, I’m sorry.” I stand up to bounce her better. “I can’t feed you that way my darling. I would if I could.”

Morgan clears his throat and I pause my pacing. “Actually, you uh, can, if you really want to.”

I give him a confused look and he explains.

“Jenny, uh, she… when Duane was born, she had trouble producing milk, so our healer showed her a few spells to uh, stimulate the lactation gland. It allowed her to produce more milk, at a faster rate. If it’s something that you want, I could teach the spell to you.” Morgan finishes with a blush.

“Are you serious? Never would’ve thought there was a spell for that, but then again, I’ve never had a baby before so I guess I wouldn’t know.

“But, yes. I’d like for you to show me. It may seem a little strange but literally the moment I laid my eyes on her, I was a goner. There was an instant connection. I feel like she’s _mine_.”

Morgan has a contemplative look on his face. “Hmm.” He says. “I’ve never seen it happen, but I’ve heard that magical children can imprint on their mothers. The note on Rosie said that her birth mother didn’t want her to begin with. Magical children can be really sensitive to negative emotions. If her mother rejected her right off the bat, then she could, in theory, make the connection with someone else. I think she may have chosen you.”

I’m completely stunned, but I’m filled with warmth at the idea. I was very close with my own mother growing up. She sheltered me a lot from my father’s anger and revulsion of my magic. She was my best friend and the love I had for her knew no bounds. I was _devastated_ when she died, but the thought that I can be to Rosie what my mother was to me makes me elated.

“So what’s the spell?”

“Alright well… the incantation is _Producendum Lac._ The wand movement is just a double tap to each breast with the wand. The only thing is, the spell has to be renewed weekly.”

Rosie was still crying so I readjusted my grip on her, so I was cradling her, and moved to pull down my shirt, when Rick jumped out of his seat.

His face was so red, I was actually worried he might pass out, especially with how fast he shot out of the chair.

“I, um, think I'm gonna finish putting the rest of the food away in the freezer.” He was out of the room so fast, there was a slight smoke trail in his wake.

I look over to Morgan, who wouldn’t even look in my direction. I can tell hes extremely embarrassed and I can’t help but laugh.

“Two men, both with children, can’t handle a woman breast feeding. Such delicate sensibilities.”

I take Rosie into the bedroom to spare Morgan from spontaneous combustion and relax in my favorite squashy armchair.

Rosie is still crying softly and rooting in my chest, so I adjust her and whip out my wand. Four taps of my wand later and my, relatively small, breasts are almost double the size they were before and heavy with milk.

Before I put my wand away, I vanish my now too tight, bra, then guide Rosie to latch on.

“Ouch, oh shit, ow. Rosie girl be easy with me. This is my first time at this. I know you’re a seasoned pro, but it’s my first time in the big leagues. Please, watch the teeth darling.”

I use my finger to adjust her grip, so shes not just clamping down on the tip of my nipple and its sweet relief.

Rosie calms down almost immediately and her tiny hand comes up to rest on my boob as she suckles.

As she nurses, the tension from the day slowly eases from the both of us. A quiet contentment washes over me and I gently rub her back in slow circles.

She looks up at me and we make eye contact, and the whole world fades away for a few moments. I feel like I’m drowning in little pools of emerald green.

When her gentle sucks slow, I quickly switch her to my other boob. I don’t know for sure what she went through with her birth mother, but I have a gut feeling it wasn’t anything good.

“But it’s alright my sweet. I’ll protect you now. Nothing bad will ever happen to you while I’m around. I promise.”

The combination of my soft coos and gentle back rubs are soothing her to sleep. Her blinks are getting slower and slower, but she still seems a little reluctant to fall asleep.

She detaches herself from my nipple so I cuddle her to me and gently pat her back so she’ll burp. Once she does, I get comfortable in the arm chair and snuggle her close to me. Her head rests over my heart and she finally loses her battle with sleep.

The weight of Rosie’s body and the warmth she’s producing has me feeling drowsy as well, and I too lose a battle with sleep that I didn’t even know I was fighting.

oOoOoOoOoOo

I wake up a bit disoriented with a weight on my chest.

It takes a few minutes for the information to re-assimilate in my mind, but I’m able to organize my thoughts quickly.

Gently, I sit up and carefully peel a snoring Rosie from my chest and place her in my spot as I stand up and cover her with a throw blanket.

Looking around, I see Morgan and Duane asleep in the bed, and Rick snoring on the pull-out couch. Rhodey is laying on his back with his feet in the air, mouth open, tongue out and legs twitching.

Chuckling, I make my way to the kitchen without waking anyone. I put on a pot of coffee and whip up some breakfast.

I’m just finishing the bacon when Rick staggers in, heading straight for the coffee pot.

After he fixes his cup, we both grab a plate and sit at the table.

We eat in a comfortable silence until Rick breaks it. “Indy…”

I look up at him when he hesitates. “How are you doing? The last two days have been very busy and it’s like things are happening on fast forwards.”

“Honestly Rick? I'm felling a pinch overwhelmed. And furious. And sad. Grateful, but scared outta my mind. So... I’m kind of a mess.” I chuckle weakly.

“I mean yesterday we found a baby. Abandoned by her birth mother as soon as she saw us and that makes me furious because, what if we didn’t hear Rosie’s cries? Or what if a biter got to her before we could!? How could _anyone_ just abandon their baby like that? And what kind of life did little Rosie have with her? That woman was going to just leave her baby, all on her own, with just vending machine snacks to live on! She was condemning her to death, and all she cared about was keeping her conscious clean.”

Rick puts his hand on me, and all my righteous indignation floods out of me, sadness taking its place.

Sadness for the precious girl asleep in the next room. Sadness at the cruelty of her mother. And most of all, sadness that even if the world hadn’t gone to hell, this amazing little soul would’ve still had to endure so much hardship in her life. Sadness at the unfairness of it all.

“Her short little life has been filled with horror, and this is all she’ll ever know as she grows up.” I whisper, tears filling my eyes.

“No. No Indy that’s not true,” Rick squeezes my hand, “She has you to protect her now, to look after her. She has all of us, in fact. The world may not be what is used to be- may never be that way again, but because of us, of _you_ , she’ll know love and happiness and safety.

“I saw the look you got in your eyes when you held her for the first time. It was the look of a mother, who would do any and everything for her child. It was a look of unconditional love. You’re more equipped to take care of Rosie, and you’ll do a phenomenal job- regardless of the apocalypse.”

I sniff and wipe my steadily falling tears. “But I’m so scared Rick. There's a whole defenseless person depending on me now. what if I fuck it up? The stakes are much higher now. Literally life and death, and I’d rather die then anything happen to my Rosie.”

Rick chuckles and cups my cheeks, using his thumbs to wipe the remaining tears from my face. “Indy, that’s just what being a parent feels like. Let me tell you, the first time I held Carl, I almost shit myself. He was so tiny, fragile, and perfect, I was afraid to even breathe wrong for fear of screwing something up or hurting him.

“I'm not going to lie, that feeling doesn’t ever really go away. No matter how big they get, how grown, you’ll always look at then and see your baby. But you take it one day at a time. All you can do is protect them and raise them right.

“But you have help. I may have only met you three days ago but were family now. And family sticks together. You’ll be a good mother Indy.”

Suddenly, I’m pulled into a vision.

_Rick is getting out the back of a white van, he’s looking down as he walks towards a group of people, when the sudden shout of “DAD!” has him whipping his head up._

_His eyes immediately fill with tears as his little boy, Carl, comes barreling towards him. He starts running and meets his son halfway, the boy tackling him to the ground._

_He buries his face in his sons shoulder and sobs._

As I come out of the vision, Rick has tears running down _his_ face and its my turn to wipe them away. “You saw that right? Rick were going to find him. Were going to find your boy.”

Abruptly Rick stands up and yanks me into a crushing hug. I can feel his body shaking and his breath hitches as he tries to keep his composure. “Th-thank you, Indy. Thank you.”   

oOoOoOoOoOo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: First things first, I want to thank everyone who left a review and favorited/ gave kudos to this fic. It means so much to me that people like and want to read what I write. Now I’m just gonna clear up a few things so nobody is confused:  
> 1\. Only Indy, Rick, Morgan and Duane know that it was the magical population that started the apocalypse  
> 2\. I can’t say that this will never be brought up again, because it’s possible, but in my current plans, it’s not going to become public knowledge  
> 3\. To clarify who has magic and who doesn’t:  
> a. Everyone in this world is born with magic, but majority of the world do not have direct access to this magic.  
> b. Muggles are people with no history of magic users in their families- they still have it, they just can’t use it.  
> i. Though it may manifest in other ways (Rick’s body healing itself after the power in the hospital went out)  
> c. Muggle borns are children born into those families at random.  
> i. They can access their magic and are the first to do so in many generations, or for the first time in that families history.  
> d. Magicals are those born with full access to their magic  
> i. They may have a full family tree of people born able to use their magic fully (i.e. purebloods)  
> e. Squibs are children born to magicals that cant access as much of their magic. (the opposite of a muggleborn)  
> i. They have some direct access to it though not much and are able to brew potions, see through magical wards and can see things muggles cant (like how Mrs. Fig was able to see the dementors in OOtP and Filch can be in Hogwarts)  
> ii. They do not have enough magic to wield wands, cast spells or be accepted into magical schools  
> 4\. The plan for Indy to get to Ilvermorny is a bit on the back burner. Her plan was to mostly find other people, preferably magical people and she has- she just didn’t think it would be so quickly. She assumed that if ilvermorny was still around, it would have a good magical population residing there, and was heading there so she wouldn’t be alone in the world anymore.  
> a. Shes also grown very attached to Morgan, Duane and Rick and is very determined to help Rick find his family. She knows that if it becomes necessary, Ilvermorny is always an option she can take if she, (Morgan and Duane) needs to take to get out of a dangerous (magical hating solution).  
> 5\. As for Michonne and Andre, I’m keeping that a surprise 😉  
> I hope you guys liked this chap!!!


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